


Tree & Blossom

by Anannua, coolgirl3890



Category: Naruto
Genre: ANBU - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anbu Yamato | Tenzou, Angst and Humor, Eventual Father-Daughter Relationship, Found Family, Gen, Kid Fic, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tenzou has no idea what he is doing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:13:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29702466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anannua/pseuds/Anannua, https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolgirl3890/pseuds/coolgirl3890
Summary: There are moments in life when a person has to step back and take in how strange living on this planet truly is. Yamato did just that, letting the surrealness of his situation wash over him like a tidal wave.Here he was, an ANBU operative with the ultra-rare Wood Release ability, being insulted through his bachelor pad's dingy bathroom by Sakura, a child who was distantly related to the person who gave him the ultra-rare Wood Release ability through years of unethical experimentation.A child, who apparently had a vocabulary large enough that Yamato was forced to pull out a dictionary to find out that he was being called an idiot.All because he broke his goddamn leg a few weeks back.(A canon-divergent AU in which Tenzou gets assigns a peculiar mission)
Relationships: Haruno Sakura & Yamato | Tenzou
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter 1

ANBU Cat arrived with whisper-soft footfalls. The sound was enough to pull the Hidden Leaf’s Third Hokage from his work with a curious twist to his expression, like he’d bitten into a sour lemon, or, actually heard ANBU footsteps for once. 

“You’re supposed to be off that leg,” Hiruzen said in lieu of any meaningless ritual conversation, for which Tenzou was equally pleased and embarrassed. 

“I would've had to hop.”

Hiruzen gave an amused smile in response, and Tenzou lifted his mask so the Hokage could see his own sheepish one. Being under what amounted to house arrest had been a jarring change in pace from living life in the walls of enemy territory where the wrong move could mean life or death. The experience had given Tenzou (far too much) time to reflect on the actions that led up to his perceived punishment of a few months’ bedrest, ample time to organize a heartfelt plea against the remaining days he had originally been ordered to stay bedbound.

“No.”

The dismissal cut him off before the words ever left his mouth. Tenzou blinked, startled, and tried again. 

“Hokage-sama, I’m well enough to manage this much. At least it could be less than a few month--”

Hiruzen put his hand up in a silencing gesture, to which Tenzou immediately complied. “With how much healing you have left to do? With the way you thundered in here loud enough to be heard from Stone Country, and you want me to take you off bed rest?”

Tenzou swallowed and rubbed the back of his neck. 

“...I wasn’t that loud--”

He quickly stopped as the Hokage looked up sharply in annoyance from his desk. 

“--but, perhaps I was too hasty?”

Hiruzen squinted at Tenzou, as though he could tell he was favoring one leg over the other, as though he knew just how many extra doses of his painkiller he’d taken that morning just to get the strength to make this request. A sinking feeling filled his spirit the longer those accusing eyes were upon him. How did he know? 

Reluctantly, Tenzou lowered his gaze.

“You’re right, Lord Third. I apologize.”

Hiruzen squinted at him as he chewed on the end of his pipe. Without speaking he drew up a scroll from his desk, one tied with a vibrant blue ribbon that caught Tenzou’s attention. He accepted it curiously all the while under his leader’s scrutinizing gaze. 

“What’s this?” He asked.

“Mission details,” Hiruzen replied. “If you’re itching for something to do, I may have something for you that will suit both our needs.”

Tenzou looked up from the scroll with his eyebrows drawn together in confusion. This wasn’t what he expected after being chewed out by his boss. Yet eagerness at the prospect of having something to do rather than waste away in his tiny apartment eventually made him untie the ribbon. It fluttered to the side, along with a photo Tenzou snatched before it drifted to the floor. At least now he wouldn’t have to suffer the humiliation of slowly bending down to grab it as Hiruzen watched. 

Wide green eyes stared back at Tenzou from the photograph. _A little girl,_ he observed, taking in her other features. Pink hair laid flat against her face and round forehead. Upon closer inspection, he noted that it was soaking wet, water making the strands cling to her cheeks tightly. She couldn’t have been a day older than seven. 

A first glance at the document containing her information revealed little more than her name (Sakura, blank for the last), birthday (March 28), and blood type (O). Strange. If this child was a person of interest for a mission, there would have been more than a Post-It note worth of personal information on her. Intrigued, Tenzou continued onto the mission details.

And promptly wished he hadn’t removed his Cat mask as he read on further. 

“Babysitting duty?” He found himself saying before his mind could put a stop to it. “An S-ranked babysitting mission?”

If Hiruzen was taken aback by his outburst, he did not show it. Instead, he tipped the ash out of his pipe into an awaiting tray before answering. 

“Read on and you’ll see why.”

Tenzou did just that, eyes scanning the scroll furiously for clues. If the village’s very own Jinkuriki didn’t get his own ANBU nanny, he had a hard time believing some no-name child would. 

The second to last page revealed a typical blood work up, reading to the letter as normal as possible until the last line. The name lept off the page to his eyes: Orochimaru. 

Shock went through him like electricity. 

“That’s…” 

Impossible, he wanted to say, in spite of the official medical report. Orochimaru had no children, not of his own flesh and blood. It was one of the many things he’d gathered from his hazy years spent drifting between consciousness and uncertainty. Tenzou would never forget the quiet laments of a thwarted genius: Orochimaru was infertile. 

Even so, he did the math in his head as the Hokage took a deep pull from his pipe. Smoke furled out into the room, clouding his senses as his mind stopped on a number and a wicked suggestion. 

It was just enough time, the lapse since he’d been rescued out from under Danzo’s influence--

“She is not his daughter.”

The words cut through the fog in the room and his mind. Tenzou looked up, feeling sweat on the back of his neck, and swallowed thickly. A slow deep breath lowered his heart rate. He ordered his thoughts and agreed. 

“No. She couldn’t be.”

The Lord Third nodded morosely. 

“Despite his many medical jutsu, Orochimaru never conceived a way to birth a child of his own… which is why it intrigues me. The girl,” Sarutobi clarified, gesturing to the mission scroll with his pipe, “My most trusted medics are convinced that something links them. Either by blood or by ancestry, Orochimaru is the closest thing she has to family.”

A shiver went down Tenzou’s spine in sympathy. 

Hiruzen nodded. 

“It is obvious that sending her to live with Orochimaru is out of the question. Therefore, since you are the calibre of shinobi required to provide her adequate protection--”

Tenzou protested indignantly.

“To monitor a child, full time?! Surely a chunin would suffice--”

“You would trust a child with Orochimaru’s blood to a chunin?” 

The younger man’s protests died behind clenched teeth. 

While Tenzou felt his concerns were justified, Hiruzen brought up a good point. A chunin might be adequate protection detail for a civilian, or even a shinobi’s child, but according to the chart this was no ordinary girl. 

Something about her was different. Special. Even if it was just a distant connection, any connection to Orochimaru was bound to be used against her, and Orochimaru had made himself plenty of powerful enemies just itching to find the perfect leverage against him. 

Smoke and silence filled the air between the Hokage and his ANBU. 

He wanted to say no. Days of babysitting duty? With a little girl? His last mission had been gritty and tested his endurance, proved his tenacity, and showed his teammates just how essential Tenzou could be as part of the ANBU collaborative ops. Jumping from that to managing a kid, alone, judging from the high level of security clearance required to even know what his mission was about, would be… quite the change of pace. 

Then again, apparently she was related to Orochimaru. She was only seven years old, with no one to rely on, no one to protect her. And out of every shinobi in the village, Tenzou was probably one of the very few who could relate to her ordeal. His shoulders unwound, tension bleeding from his body as he made his decision. 

“She can’t call me Cat.”

“No,” Hiruzen agreed around his pipe with a sly smile, “No, she can’t. What shall she call you, then? Hmm?”

Tenzou paused. In his admittedly short life, he had been known by three names. Cat was what he heard in his everyday life, Tenzou was a private name known only by his closest friends. And Kinoe….

Kinoe was off-limits.

The Hokage must have grown impatient with his musings, for he suddenly suggested, "would Yamato suffice?"

Yamato. An old name, a slight nod to his Senju connection. Tenzou tried it.

"Yamato." It rolled off his tongue easily enough. "Yamato will work." 

The Lord Third nodded and stood to his full height, pipe in hand. 

“Then go. You have the details. Regular reports are due weekly. Until further notice, she is your top priority. You are relieved of any accessory ANBU duties pending the successful completion of this mission. A stipend for her expenses will be added to your pay. Any questions?”

Tenzou only had one question, one he had since he read the name Orochimaru on the scroll.

"Where did you end up putting her?"

~ ~ ~ 

Surprisingly, there was no protocol on proper apprehension measures for distant relatives of a rogue Sannin who's age didn't even break double digits.

Luckily, the T&I department was known for their improvisational skills. 

Tenzou was given enough time to change out of his ANBU gear into a more casual jounin outfit. When he arrived as newly-minted Yamato, the Head of the Analysis Team and Yamanaka clan, Inoichi, was waiting for him. He briefly glanced at the crutch Hiruzen insisted he leave his office with, but ultimately said nothing. Instead, he started down the winding hallways. Tenzou limped after him.

"Besides the blood connection, everything else about her is normal." Tenzou released a sigh of relief as Inoichi walked past the interrogation rooms and dirty jail cells. If nothing else, there was a chance he would be dealing with a less traumatized child now. "No strange chakra readings, no kekki genkai we could find, answered all our questions, complied with our orders. She even remembered her manners, which is more than what I can say for my daughter."

Thankfully, Inoichi had stopped in front of a door before Tenzou was forced to partake in the painful ordeal of having to ask about a coworker's family. A brief look around eased his nerves when he realized where they were. This section of the T&I department was where the more compliant prisoners were held, therefore, better accommodations. Uncomfortable still, but better.

The stern look didn't leave Inoichi's face. "Of course, she could be acting exactly as Orochimaru wanted her to."

The implication behind those words said everything. This girl, Sakura as Tenzou would have to start calling her from now on, held a world of dangerous possibilities through her bloodline alone. As young as she was, there was still the chance she was a spy for the Sannin or even a sleeper agent, ready to strike when their defenses were lowered. 

Tenzou had already screwed up once as an ANBU agent. He wouldn't do so again, even for a child's sake. 

"Thank you, Inoichi-san. She will be closely monitored under my watch."

Sweeter words couldn't have been to an interrogator shinobi. Solemnly, the blonde man nodded and proceeded to pull out a ring of keys from his belt. The fact that he was able to locate the correct key for the door on his first try spoke of Inoichi's skill and talent. 

"She's all yours." Inoichi announced, letting the door creak open slightly. "She had nothing but the clothes on her back when she came here, so no need to gather her personal belongings."

Tenzou acknowledged this with a nod, then he stepped in.

Inside the cell was a girl matching the description on the mission scroll. Straight, pink hair. Haunting green eyes. Six or seven, if he had to guess. She also looked bored out of her mind, but Tenzou would take that over her being scared or alarmed. 

She sat on a bed, the only piece of furniture provided in her cell, looking up as he entered.

Their eyes met.

Nothing in particular happened. Tenzou had half expected to be gripped with some kind of emotion upon coming face to face with this child affiliated with his former captor, but instead he found himself staring back at what appeared to be an ordinary kid. She watched him expectantly with those seeking green eyes. Some more seconds passed before he realized that he would have to speak first.

“My name is Yamato,” he said, trying out the name the Lord Third had given him. Tenzou… Yamato managed to go on without too much of a pause. “You’ll be living under my care for the time being.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Yamato-sama.”

“Please, just Yamato,” he hastily corrected. While not excessively polite, Lord Yamato was bound to get him strange looks from people on the streets. “What can I call you?”

“My name’s Sakura. Just Sakura.”

He extended a hand. The little girl took her time getting up, cautious in the way all children were of any stranger, and after several slow steps came up and took the offered hand. It struck him just how small her fingers were against his, and how warm the heat of her palm. Little fingers curled in his grip. 

Just her hand fitting in his stole all of Tenzou’s attention. Normally his senses stretched out to cover the perimeter, only how could he focus on anything else? The world seemed to melt away around them as he considered the little human blinking up at him. Those eyes didn’t seem so haunting up close. They even had a sparkle to them, a shine of curiosity as Sakura craned her neck a bit in order to look up at him. 

Inoichi eventually cleared his throat. 

“Be seeing you,” he said after Yamato recovered from the brief startle. They made their goodbyes brief and departed into the cool night air. 

Sakura followed along where he went. She was independent enough that after a few blocks she snuck her hand out of Yamato’s grip, though she kept close enough that a single misstep would have them collide. It was an interesting contrast. Sakura seemed determined to walk without holding Yamato’s hand yet kept right in step with him, nearly in his shadow. 

The thought wasn’t novel enough to distract Yamato from recognizing that her footsteps were just as silent as his own. He filed that observation away for scrutiny under the morning’s first light as they approached his apartment. 

“The kitchen is here,” Yamato said, introducing Sakura to his living space. She nodded in understanding as he showed her the bathroom, bedroom, and where the laundry was. It was pure luck that the night before he’d deactivated the traps that normally littered his abode for something to do, anything to cure his bed-rest boredom. He had a feeling that those traps would need extremely careful reconstruction around a seven year old. 

Sakura’s eyes began to droop, and Yamato realized how late it was. 

“Ah. This way.”

He took her to the main room and within minutes had a reasonable bed-shaped space laid out. A bachelor had no need for a spare futon, but Yamato had enough blankets and pillows to create a suitable replacement. 

“We’ll go shopping in the morning for a proper bed,” he murmured in apology. They would have to go for many things tomorrow. She didn't even have a spare shirt to change into for the night. “I hope this will be alright for tonight.”

Sakura rubbed her eyes, nodding as she clamored onto the prepared surface. It was endearing to watch, even to someone with no prior fondness for children. The way she burrowed into the bundle, half-asleep already, one leg thrown over a pillow as she drew the covers around herself was adorable. 

Yamato left her for a few minutes to let her settle in. When he returned with a cup of water, it was to the soft rise-and-fall pattern of someone in a deep sleep. He watched her from afar for a few moments more before turning in for the night. 

Tomorrow marked the start of his new life. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yamato takes Sakura out shopping and realizes that maybe he's not the smartest when it comes to connecting with kids.

Tenzou woke up the next morning with two things on his mind.

One, his leg fucking hurt.

Two, he was now in charge of a small child.

Those two thoughts alone did not inspire him to get up and start his day. But like the good, dutiful soldier he was, Tenzou coaxed himself out of bed and stood with the use of his crutch. The Hokage would kill him if he got wind of him walking around town without it.

A quick chakra scan revealed that Sakura was still in the main room, not having snuck out like a thief in the night to gather sensitive intel as the paranoia in his mind would have him believe. It was a needless worry. Years of intense training would've flung Tenzou wide awake if the girl so much as sneezed during the night, and he’d slept soundly. Nevertheless, that ingrained distrust in complete strangers remained settled just under his skin. 

Tenzou allowed himself the luxury of taking his time with his morning routine. He ambled through his tiny room, throwing on clothes that could be put on with minimal difficulty. His usual morning stretches had been interrupted following his leg injury, but pestering the medic-nin the last few days proved useful when they gave him a list of exercises he could safely do. After brushing his teeth and popping a generous portion of painkillers, he went into the living room to officially start the first day of his mission. 

The blanket-and-pillow bed was empty, sheets folded and tucked under the pillows as smoothly as possible. Its former occupant was only a few feet away, standing on a borrowed chair and gazing intently out a window. 

She hadn’t noticed him yet, or if she did, gave no indication. Her full attention was at the window, or rather through it. Curiosity brought Yamato closer. He consciously made his footsteps audible as he approached. Sakura jumped slightly, but remained at her post by the windowstill. 

“Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Sakura repeated dutifully in a polite tone. Yamato felt a trickle of relief. She was quiet and reserved but well mannered, just as Inoichi said. He could work with that. 

That was apparently enough routine conversation for Sakura, whose attention returned quickly to the window overlooking the street below. Yamato was tempted to leave her and continue with his own morning routine, but his earlier curiosity resurfaced. What was she doing?

Closer observation told Yamato that his charge was avidly watching the passer-bys on the street below. Despite the early hour, Sakura was wide awake, unwilling to miss a moment as people mulled about doing their own morning activities, getting groceries or on a stroll, taking coffee or headed to work. It was absolutely mundane. Nothing out of the ordinary for a week day. Yet Sakura remained wide-eyed in fascination by the scene unfolding below. 

He could observe her behavior stealthily and uncover her true motives in time…  _ or… _ since she was seven, and susceptible to being more truthful while caught unawares, he could…

“What are you doing, Sakura?” He asked. 

“Watching,” Sakura replied, “There’s so many.”

Yamato glanced back to the… twelve… fifteen people out on the streets. 

He withheld his own observation. Konoha as the largest ninja village was densely populated, and this was a sparse handful of morning commuters, considering Sakura’s excitement. She seemed genuinely taken with the amount of people on the streets, eyes darting from person to person to capture each moment of their individual activities. She wasn’t trying to deceive him. She was a seven year old filled with honest enthusiasm for the completely ordinary scene below. 

It struck him as odd. Not malicious, just odd. 

He turned the information over in his mind as he retreated to the kitchen to make them both something to eat. The smell of eggs and bacon frying did little to tempt Sakura from her window perch, so Yamato was forced to call her over. Finally, Sakura blinked owlishly and joined him in the kitchen.

“Thank you for the food.”

“You’re welcome,” Yamato said. It was in his nature to gather information. As they ate, he watched her mannerisms. Right-handed. Ate quickly but not as though she was starving. Kicked her feet a little under the table in a way that bespoke extra energy. 

_ Child-like _ , Yamato thought, before mentally kicking himself. She  _ was _ a child!

“I’m all done,” Sakura’s voice informed him. “Mister Yamato.”

“Please, just Yamato is fine,” he quickly corrected again. At least it was an improvement from  _ Lord _ . “We should get going soon.”

Sakura’s shoulders squared and her eyes became oddly focused. 

“Where are we going?”

“Shopping,” Yamato said as he put a piece of paper on the table. “I didn’t have a futon for you so I’m bound to be missing some other things that you’ll need. I'm going to write a shopping list before we go out."

He scrawled at the very top next to a bullet point 'futon'. He glanced back up at Sakura. Clothing would be their second priority. She was dressed in the typical attire most Konoha prisoners wore, a white cotton shirt and navy blue sweatpants. 

Pushing down his momentary distress from the fact that the village made prisoner clothing that small, Yamato wrote 'clothes' as the next bullet point. Sakura held her plate in uncertainty. 

"Ah, you can put that in the sink." 

Yamato continued writing down his list, not bothering to turn around when he heard a soft  _ clang  _ from the kitchen. If they were already going out, he might as well stock up on groceries now that he had an extra mouth to feed. He heard Sakura walk over to the bathroom, stopping short by the door. Feeling those green eyes on him, Yamato looked up to see her looking back from him to the bathroom. Did she seriously need permission to use the-

Oh. "I have an extra toothbrush in the medicine cabinet. It's still in the packaging."

Sakura sagged her shoulders in relief before disappearing in the bathroom. Yamato listened to the sound of rushing water for a moment before returning to his writing. He had just about finished listing down the bare essentials when she returned.

He met her by the door after grabbing his crutch and two reusable bags. In the time it took him to get there, Sakura had already pulled her sandals on and was practically vibrating in silent excitement. Interesting, but not exactly odd. Dare he say cute? She was a stranger in a strange city. If she wasn't scared, she was bound to be curious about this new village she had only seen at night. 

Out the door and down the stairs, Sakura pointedly kept her hands crossed in front of her. 

"Stay close. The market can get busy this time of day," Yamato warned. So long as she didn't wander off, he figured that she didn't have to hold his hand. 

Sakura nodded. Yamato was briefly worried how she would react once they entered the utter chaos that was the open food market. If a handful of people in the early hours was a lot to her, he couldn't imagine what she would do when faced with dozens upon dozens of individuals shouting and pushing their way through the crowds for the best deals. 

Luckily, others gave them a wide enough berth as they walked past. If there was one benefit to having a leg injury that required the use of crutches, it was that people got out of his way. Sakura kept as close to him as she did last night, at one point brushing up against his leg if the space got tight enough.

It was a simple task for Yamato to accomplish the two missions at once. On the outside, they were collecting the various necessities Sakura would need for the stay at his house. On the other hand, it was prime time to collect valuable data on his mission. 

The market stall owners, especially the ones manned by grandmothers,  _ adored _ Sakura. How could they not? She was seven and her excessive politeness was generalized, not specific to certain situations. Every purchase was ended with a short bow and expression of gratitude.

“Aren’t you the sweetest thing?!” Was a phrase Yamato heard often throughout the day. Sakura, seemingly unused to such praise, would blush and quickly retreat back to his side. The one exception was when the guy at the fruit stand offered her a small box of strawberries. She only took it when she received an approving nod from Yamato, who had no objection to getting free food. 

Over time, they made a handy collection of purchases. Yamato was more than happy to accept the help of a sales clerk to find several season-appropriate outfits for Sakura. He had no experience in this matter, wearing whatever outfits Requisitions gave him. She thanked them cheerfully as they left the shop, their arms weighed down by their new purchases. No doubt the commission on her pay would go up thanks to them. 

Without prompting, Sakura went ahead and relieved Yamato of his burdens. It ended up looking rather pitiful, him on crutches relying on the seven-year-old to carry everything, but it’d look even more comical if he tried to take back a bag and ended up toppling over. Besides, Sakura looked so pleased with herself for being able to carry everything for them. It was the first smile he saw on her. How could Yamato demand she give up a bag or two? He ignored a squint of judgment from a passerby and herded them towards their next destination. 

The futon was next. After taking a long look at Yamato's crutches and Sakura's overburdened arms, the clerk stepped in the back and brought out a scroll for easy transport. Yamato thanked him profusely and Sakura watched in awe as the child-size bed disappeared in a puff of smoke. 

He noticed after that stop that Sakura’s bright smile had dimmed somewhat. 

“Hey,” he prompted, “If you’re getting tired, I don’t mind taking one of those.”

“You’ll fall over,” Sakura said with the utmost certainty, though her voice sounded less enthusiastic than it had half an hour ago. 

Yamato could tell she was beginning to tire out. Perhaps he had overestimated the stamina of a small child, or perhaps he hadn’t accounted for her to bear the burden of carrying all the bags. Blast this leg injury. He considered creating a wood-style clone to assist, but the clone would have the same injury. Annoyed at himself, Yamato finally pinpointed a problem he could fix. 

“You know, it’s been a while since we had breakfast." He mentioned. 

Sakura perked up at once. 

“...I am a little hungry,” she admitted, trying not to sound too eager. Yamato cursed himself for not considering the smaller stomach size of his tiny charge. 

They detoured to a hole-in-the-wall restaurant. After eating a few dumplings and cups of water, Sakura’s energy seemed restored. Yamato admitted a little miserably to himself that he also felt better. It had been so long since he let himself enjoy whole food, so used to a life on the run with nothing but rations and soldier pills. His stomach and body felt refreshed. He could only imagine the relief for little Sakura. 

_ I have to stop thinking like black ops _ , Yamato told himself as they cleaned the table. Adjust to fit the mission. Adapt. Overcome. 

Right. He just had to stop thinking like ANBU and start thinking like… 

A little shiver went through him. 

What else was there? 

“Yamato?”

His eyes opened. 

Sakura stood beside him, looking up in concern. “Does your leg hurt?”

Yamato grabbed the excuse quickly, nodding sheepishly. “It does hurt a little bit… maybe that’s enough shopping for one day.” It was a better train of thought and it was sweet of Sakura to worry about him, a near stranger. “Let’s go back.”

On the walk back home, Yamato watched Sakura carefully for signs of fatigue. Sure enough, she seemed to tire easily. He resolved to discover if normal seven year olds wore out after a few hours at the market. Trained to be a weapon since his unnatural birth, Yamato never had the chance to dwell on his fatigue. It was something to be pushed through, a sign of weakness, one that ROOT would've snuffed out immediately. 

Lord Third’s warnings about her lingered in his mind. What would this have to do with her connection to Orochimaru? Theories began to form. Maybe Orochimaru deemed her defective, too weak, and in a strange show of mercy dumped her off at Konoha's doorstep. Maybe she wasn't tired at all, playing the part of a helpless little girl so that Yamato would let his guard down. At this point in his mission, those were all possibilities to consider. 

By the time they returned home, he had compiled a mental list of questions. He followed Sakura into the kitchen, who had started to put away their food with surprising efficiency for a tired kid. 

"So, you must not be used to such big crowds." Yamato started, trying to look casual as he propped one hip against the counter. Sakura nodded. "Konoha is a pretty big village. Did you live somewhere smaller before coming here?"

Sakura momentarily paused from her task to shrug her shoulders. "Dunno." 

Unperturbed, Yamato probed further. "Don't know where you lived or don't know how many people lived in your village?"

Another shrug. "I don't know where I used to live." 

Yamato did recall how the mission scroll stated that Sakura had selective amnesia. Still, something wasn't adding up. How could she remember never seeing large crowds, but not something as important as her hometown? 

Yamato paused, then decided to take a calculated risk. "Do you remember anything before coming here?"

Sakura flinched as if he yelled his question. He began to fear that he had ruined the tentative trust between them when she started wringing her hands together, but then,

"N-Not really. I think I remember my mom and dad tucking me into bed at night. Then, I woke up in the rain outside." The next part came monotoned, as if she told this story a million times before. "I was cold, so I started following the road until I saw some big gates. A man in a mask found me and took me inside." 

That was probably ANBU. What Sakura just told him was probably nothing already known by those who interrogated her. T&I were thorough.

That left the strange comment on her mother and father. She  _ thought  _ she remembered them? But if she was a clone of Orochimaru as some might believe, she wouldn't have had any parents. The uncertainty of her own memory casted further suspicion. 

Perhaps the snake Sannin implanted false memories in her? Yamato could see it now. Sakura, floating in a glass tube, hidden from the rest of the world much like he had. Her brief moments of consciousness would've had nothing but total isolation. Memories of a happier life would've kept her sane and most importantly, compliant. 

Yamato was about to question her on what she remembered about her parents when Sakura let out a jaw-cracking yawn.

_ Maybe now's not the best time to ask questions if she's too tired,  _ Yamato thought to himself. He made a decision to leave it for tonight and ask more tomorrow, when they were both rested and with clearer heads. 

After dinner, Sakura changed into her new pajamas and watched as Yamato unfurled the scroll containing her futon. She watched with the same level of astonishment as in the shop when the futon popped back into existence. They bade each other good night and Yamato left her to sleep. 

Behind the safety of closed doors, Tenzou let out a sigh and ran his fingers through short, brown hair. He was starting to think that the Lord Third made a mistake assigning him to this mission. Surely there were other ANBU who were better equipped at dealing with children, perhaps the very few that were parents. He couldn't even use his own childhood as reference!

But what was done was done. Besides, he had fuck all else to do as his leg healed at a turtle's pace. He should be grateful that Hiruzen considered him for this mission at all. Tenzou only hoped that the Hokage wouldn't think less of him for having difficulty with a part-intel-gathering part-babysitting mission.

How hard could watching a child  **_really_ ** be? 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tenzou and Sakura go to the library (because knowledge is power!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> betaed by the amazing [panda_shi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/panda_shi/pseuds/panda_shi)!

The next morning, Tenzou woke up to the smell of smoke.

Never in his life had he ran from one room to the next so quickly. 

The speed at which Tenzou entered the main room would have broken the sound barrier if it wasn't for his bum leg. The apartment's only other occupant, the little arsonist that no doubt started a fire, jolted in shock from her place at the stove. 

Yamato was just about to open his mouth to demand what her intentions were when a new smell hit his nose.

Eggs. Fried eggs. 

Yamato blinked. Sakura, oblivious of the malicious thoughts that he had for her moments before, greeted him.

"Good morning, Yamato. I'm sorry for burning the toast."

Yamato limped the rest of the way to the kitchen. Sure enough, there were pans on the stovetop. One frying an omelette, and the other boiling rice despite the perfectly good rice cooker next to her. Two slices of slightly-burned toast waited on otherwise two empty plates. 

Yamato silently cursed himself for overreacting to what amounted as a kind gesture on Sakura's part, then cursed himself again for letting his guard down to the point that he didn't hear a child moving around his own apartment. He was ANBU, dammit! A fly couldn't enter his room without it's presence being known. This was exactly the kind of thing he swore would not happen! 

"Are you mad?" Sakura asked in a small voice. She looked terrified at the prospect.

"No, it's just-- I smelled smoke-- I didn't know you could cook." Yamato admitted. "From now on, please ask me before you use the stove."

Sakura nodded eagerly, relief blossoming across her features. Yamato shooed her away, saying that he would finish cooking while she got dressed for the day. 

She returned just as he set their breakfast of omelettes over rice on the table, wearing a pink tank top and blue shorts bought the other day. He watched her take the first bite. ROOT conditioning helpfully reminded him that the smartest way to see if food was poisoned without drawing attention to one's self was to see if the person who cooked it ate it as well. 

Satisfied that Sakura didn't keel over and die after her first bite, Yamato tried the food. For a meal cooked by a seven year old, it wasn't bad at all. He knew several ANBU members who could barely cook instant ramen despite being highly-trained assassins so he considered this to be an impressive feat. 

While they ate, Yamato considered his mission parameters. Surely he wasn’t expected to stay cooped up inside with a seven year old all damn day long. He would send a message and inquire about additional mission specifics, such as when his torture might end. 

… Perhaps that was a tad overdramatic. 

Yamato pondered further. It wasn’t unlike other bodyguarding missions he had taken. Certainly the environment was much less hostile in his own home town. Still, he shouldn’t let his guard down. At least this client seemed to be cooperative, unlike previous ones who gave him a headache to recall. 

Considering everything, he really was getting off easy. Sakura could have been a little hellion. Instead, he was being paid generously to babysit a well-mannered little girl. The only offsetting thing about her was the supposed connection she had to Orochimaru and Yamato was beginning to doubt the validity of those claims. Bloodwork could be wrong, right? 

The Mokuton user pushed those thoughts right out of his mind. What was he thinking? Of course the girl was related to Orochimaru! He just didn’t have clearance to know how precisely. It wouldn't do to start doubting the word of the Lord Third.

“I’m finished,” Sakura announced. “May I be excused?”

“I’ll take your dishes,” Yamato said absent mindedly, still reorienting himself. It was odd that the mission was affecting him strongly enough to make him question the village leader. Perhaps his leg injury was affecting him more than he thought. His body did ache when he used it, even with the painkillers. Guilty, Yamato took care of the dishes while Sakura lingered in the kitchen. 

“Yamato?”

“Mm?”

“The books on the shelf,” Sakura continued, glancing into the living room. “Can I read some of them?”

Yamato looked up from the suds in the sink and his uncertain thoughts. The books Sakura had her eyes on were way out of her reading range. Of course, perhaps this was her way of entertaining herself, looking at the pictures in books.

Yamato nodded. “Help yourself. If you have trouble reading some of the words, let me know.” 

He seriously doubted she would ask him. His bookshelf contained a few practical guides to gardening, architecture, cook books that were gifts from his team, a handful of weapon sharpening/honing guides, and several desert-dry treaties on world history that only sometimes came in use when preparing for missions in other countries. Yamato returned to the dishes and his thoughts, though he did keep a mindful eye over one shoulder. 

Sakura took her time glancing from title to title. She eventually settled on a volume and went on her tip-toes to withdraw it. Her body wobbled a bit under the weight as she collected it from the shelf to bring onto the floor. Settling onto her stomach, Sakura opened the book and began to turn the pages. It was clear from the speed that she was just flipping through to see the pictures. Yamato took the distraction for what it was, some secure moments of peace and quiet, and finished tending to the kitchen. 

When he returned, Sakura blinked up at him and pointed to a particular word. 

“How do I pronounce this?”

Yamato glanced down. “That’s  _ pituitary _ .”

He waited for her to ask what it meant, but with the confidence only a child could have, Sakura thanked him, repeated the word correctly, and returned to her reading. Yamato half smiled. Fine. If she wanted to pretend to read to entertain herself then that was good. Great, even. It gave him some free time to-

Pain shot up his leg. Yamato reconsidered the things he could do with an injured leg and a child to watch, even though Sakura was clearly capable of watching herself. He sat down at his table to rest his leg, and to observe Sakura as she continued her pretend-reading. 

Upon closer study, Yamato realized that Sakura wasn’t just flipping through pages. He watched in fascination as her keen eyes moved rapidly in a pattern that suggested, no,  _ insisted _ comprehension. 

This seven-year-old was reading an anatomy textbook… 

For fun. 

“What’s your book about?” He asked, trying not to impart any of the worry he felt through his tone. 

“It’s about bodies,” Sakura reported dutifully. 

Yamato felt a chill go down his spine. He swallowed it down and attempted a smile instead. “Oh? Is that right?”

The little pink-haired girl nodded. “Mm-hm. I’m learning about bones and muscles and glands and how they all work together.”

_ Pituitary _ , Yamato’s bra in reminded him.  _ A gland  _ _ related to controlling growth and development.  _ Was that normal for a seven-year-old to be interested in? Uncertainty took root as he watched Sakura return to her reading. Was he actively encouraging a relative of Orochimaru’s to take an interest in the human body?! This could only end poorly.

Was he overreacting? It wasn’t like she had many other things to do in his apartment. Maybe she was just bored, desperate enough to read a medical textbook to relieve her boredom. Perhaps he could lure Sakura from her thirst for knowledge by offering to take her to the park.  It would strain his leg, but Yamato would tough it out. He hadn’t hit his max daily dose of painkillers yet. 

“Say, it’s really nice outside. Let’s go visit the park.”

Instead of delight, Yamato was met with a pleading face. 

“... Do we have to?” Sakura asked. 

His expectations were turned upside down. Weren’t all children supposed to love the park? Yamato realized that he needed more intel regarding children. Sakura looked forlorn at the prospect of being torn away from her book. 

A lightbulb popped over his head. 

“How about the library then?”

That pleading look turned into puzzlement.

“This  _ is _ a library.”

Yamato looked over at his half-empty bookshelf, not knowing whether to be confused or pleased that Sakura considered his book collection a library.

“I meant the public library. Every major village has one.” He explained. “They have a lot more books there that you can borrow.”

It felt odd to explain to a child who knew what a pituitary gland was the concept of a public library. Yet Sakura’s eyes went wide in excitement. It was then Yamato realized that such a place was unheard of to her. 

“How many books are there?” Sakura asked with barely-contained enthusiasm. 

“It’s an entire building, so more than I can count.”

Sakura shot up from the floor at lightning speed. She hastily shoved the textbook back onto the shelf with no concern about putting it back in its original place. From there, she made a beeline to the front door. Yamato barely had enough time to gather his crutches before she announced that she was ready. They left together and Sakura took off at a brisk pace. 

So unlike the timid girl she was yesterday! Sakura was now chatting his ear off with a thousand questions a minute. What kind of books did they have? How long could they borrow the books for? Would she be able to reach all the books? Yamato tried his best to keep up, both with her questions and her high energy speedwalk. As they got closer, she willingly slipped her hand into his, claiming that she didn’t want to get lost in such a big place. The sensation of tiny fingertips threading against his much bigger palm struck home how much smaller Sakura was. 

Tenzou wisely ignored the little hiccup of his heart. 

For Yamato, this would be a win-win situation. His charge would have something to distract her as he observed her. As for him, he could gather valuable intel simply by letting Sakura choose whatever books she wanted. 

_ (And hopefully for both their sakes, she wouldn’t run straight to the medical section.) _

~ ~ ~ 

An hour and one bagful of books later, the shinobi and the child were walking home.

Sakura was  _ radiating  _ pure delight as she swung the heavy canvas bag with her bounty. As they walked, Yamato heard her humming a jaunty tune under her breath.

Cruelly limited to only four books by the librarian, Sakura had eventually decided to borrow: a book of fairytales, some generic animal encyclopedia, a manga about a princess and her samurai, and finally, a travel guide of the Fire Country.

Yamato was surprised that Sakura had gravitated to the books aimed towards children her age. If she had minimal difficulty reading an academic text, he could see her easily breezing through such juvenile books. Oh well... Whatever made her happy and quiet. Besides, it would give him a viable excuse to leave his stuffy apartment once she undoubtedly finished everything in a day or two. 

Speaking of happy, Yamato was also feeling rather pleased with their visit. He killed two birds with one stone today, three if he counted the book of childhood development safely tucked under his arm. 

Sakura went ahead of him when they reached the door of the apartment complex. He watched as the little girl skipped ahead to hold open the door for him, and felt himself smiling at her despite himself. 

His report to the Hokage would certainly not be lacking in detail. 

**Author's Note:**

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